Nights Like This
by Ranowa Hikura
Summary: Iruka hates it when Kakashi comes home like this. IruKaka, rated M, more warnings inside.


I don't really think this is what my wellness class meant by researching on your own about unsafe sex... but, seriously. This is the first sex scene I have ever written- I don't normally even READ the M-rated stuff, I skim. When the time is perfect for a sex scene in my fics, I do a lame 'one hour later...' time skip. But I didn't here. So, any and all feedback would be GREATLY appreciated. Even if you hated it, please tell me why so I can improve.

**Warnings: Light bondage, explicit yaoi... clearly totally inexperienced, but I think that's all I need?**

Iruka hates it when Kakashi comes home like this.

He never knows what kind of mission it was, what kind of night it will be, until after his lover has approached him. Always, Kakashi first drops his pack off by the door, no matter what kind of mission it was, and the state of his uniform and his body will betray the level of his need. A fresh uniform, one not torn or stained with blood and grass and mud, means he went to his own apartment and changed first, and his injuries will be few and already taken care of, and that means Kakashi is here because he wants to be, not because he needs to be. He loves those nights. Those nights will be a happy reunion after however long apart, and they'll eat together and fall in bed together and Iruka will smile, because Kakashi is home and safe and he couldn't ask for more.

Then there are the times when the jounin comes in, but his uniform is soiled, his injuries fresh and still bleeding. Those nights are less easy, less comforting, for the both of them, but Iruka still never knows whether he'll end the night curled up happy with Kakashi or in tears and alone until Kakashi has approached him. If the man walks forward and smiles, giving him a masked kiss, and says, 'I'm home', that means he needs reassurance. That means he needs comfort. And he'll spend the night in Iruka's arms, the teacher whispering promises in his ear that he's here to stay and loves him no matter what. Those nights are okay, too. It pains him that the missions can break down Kakashi this much, but he's not angry, and it doesn't hurt to hold Kakashi and whisper those things to him. He does love Kakashi, and he'll say it until he believes it.

Then there are the nights when he walks straight to Iruka, kneels in front of him on the couch, takes his hand and places it on his cheek.

Iruka hates it when he comes home like that.

Like _this_.

Because the jounin is kneeling before him now, expectant eye focused on his face, half-gloved hand clasped over his wrist, holding it in place. This is his one and only chance to back out. He can tell Kakashi no, that he won't do it. He can order him to go and find someone else who will do it for him, because what's about to happen is not sex, not in Iruka's eyes, so it won't be cheating or a betrayal if Kakashi goes to someone else.

But he doesn't tell him no.

Kakashi doesn't trust anyone like he trusts him, and so he knows that if he tells Kakashi to leave and get what he needs from someone else, he won't. He doesn't know what Kakashi does, but it's not that.

The one time he did send the man away, watching him after that, watching him struggle and tremble and shatter inside, it broke Iruka's heart.

That's why he doesn't send him away anymore.

Iruka takes a deep breath, nods silently, and hooks a finger over the edge of the mask. Kakashi doesn't smile; if anything, the desperate need in his eye is even more apparent, but he looks endlessly relieved, too, and that pains Iruka more than he could ever tell him.

For the next hour, he will seal away the gentle teacher who doesn't like rough sex or bondage. He will seal away the man who doesn't like to see his Kashi in pain, caused by him or not. He will seal away everything about him that Kakashi loves, because that's not what he needs right now. For the next hour, that Iruka does not exist.

He rips Kakashi's mask down, stripping away the control he hangs to so desperately. The flimsy cloth tears a little as it's forced to pool down around his neck, and then Iruka slams his mouth onto his. He doesn't want to call it a kiss, because there's nothing sweet or romantic about it. Their tongues battle for dominance but Kakashi puts up no fight, letting the other man smother him without resistance, before Iruka stands and yanks him with him. He forces Kakashi back to their bedroom and not-kisses him again before shoving him down to the bed.

"Safe word: sushi." His voice is stern and unyielding, without any room for argument. Because Kakashi doesn't want a safe word- not because he sees himself as so kinky nothing will ever be too far, but he truly _does not want_ the option to say no.

Iruka draws the line at that. He said back when this tortuous arrangement first began that either they agree on a safe word beforehand, or he won't do it.

Kakashi nods slightly, his eye never leaving Iruka's. "Sushi," he whispers. "Got it."

Iruka's heart is already breaking when he falls onto the bed, then, twisting Kakashi over and pushing his face into a pillow. The jounin struggles but does not fight, and Iruka gives him a biting not-kiss as a reward. His teeth sink into his cloth-covered upper arm, not lightly, either, and he waits until he feels warm drops of blood rush to the surface before he pulls his head back.

First the flak jacket goes, crumpling to the floor in a heap, and then he rips the uniform shirt off and throws it back as well. Kakashi's struggling a bit more, now, fighting what he wants because that's all he knows how to do. Iruka grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back so Kakashi can see his face. "Stay still."

The order is harsh and Kakashi nods silently, almost apologetically. His eye is mournful, sad, _hollow_- and that hurts in ways Iruka can't even describe.

"Punish me, Iruka," he whispers back, and it's not the lust-filled, playful leer Kakashi so often says those words in. This time he means it. Punishment for whatever it is he did, whoever it is he hurt.

The lump in Iruka's throat tries to hold back his next words, but they come out anyway. "I will." Because he loves Kakashi, and this is what he needs. He'll do it even when it hurts him so much it kills him.

He pushes Kakashi's head back into the pillow, fingers retreating from the silky silver they want so much to stroke and not yank, caress and not pull. The sleeveless ANBU top is forced off then, leaving Kakashi half-naked and open to Iruka's inspection.

No new injuries- none that he can see. He knows already that there's another bleeding gash in his heart, another one to join the myriad of wounds that will never heal, but at least he won't be adding a fresh hurt to an already lengthy list tonight. Iruka takes a moment to appreciate the writhing, silver-haired beast, lean body all his. Hard, steely muscles were twitching, eager but holding back from _fighting _back. His back arced inwards from the strain of supporting himself on his knees, bony spine visible and just waiting for him to kiss it and work his way down, down, down…

This beautiful sight, this beautiful man, is all his. And normally, nothing could make him happier.

But now what he's supposed to _do_ to this man makes him sick.

Kakashi's body jerks, and the silver head to turns so one grey eye, wide with impatience, desperation, _need_, meets his. "Iruka," he grunts. Silently asking what's taking him so long.

Iruka doesn't make him wait any longer. He hates this next part, but it's important, and Kakashi wants it. So he'll do what the man he loves needs, and will hate himself later.

He leans toward the bedside table and rummages for a bit in the drawer, goosebumps rising when his fingers touch something hard and cold. He withdraws the glinting silver restraints anyway, and this time Kakashi fights him a little as he clamps then securely over his wrists and threads the chain through the anchor point above the bed. They're Chakra enhanced, so not even the jounin will be able to break them, and that's just what Kakashi wants.

Because even though Kakashi could flip him and break his neck with his legs in a second, even though Kakashi could melt the cuffs right off with a Chidori, he still wants at least the illusion of being helpless. He wants to be made helpless because he needs to know that he's still human, he's still a human who can think and feel and be hurt, not just a cold crafted machine that exists only to kill.

Kakashi struggles more now, uneasy like any shinobi would be with the feel of metal around his wrists, and Iruka gives him another not-kiss again. He bites at his collarbone, hard, only barely stopping his tongue from licking over the abused skin afterwards. "No fighting," he hisses, then bites again. "Don't resist."

Kakashi lays still once again, effectively reprimanded. Iruka moves on then, more biting not-kisses down his spine at a tortuously slow rate. The jounin can't help but move, milky flesh sliding and twisting under his mouth, and Iruka lets him until, with a particularly vicious bite at his hip, he sends his pants down around his ankles and hooks a suggestive finger around the waistband of his boxers. Kakashi groans, in pain or pleasure, Iruka's never figured out, though he spends a bit more time on his torso before he's ready to take the next step.

It takes Kakashi getting impatient again to finally force him past biting and not-kissing, takes the man grunting and twisting against the pillow for him to know wants more, and wants it now.

Iruka's heart throbs a bit in protest even as he pulls down Kakashi's boxers with steady hands, baring the man until all that's left is the black headband, dark cloth in sharp contrast against his ashy hair. He wastes no time undoing the knot and sliding the Konoha symbol away. The piece of metal clanks worthlessly to the floor, and he leans to whisper in his ear.

"You're not theirs tonight. You're mine."

It's the only true thing he's said all night.

Kakashi shudders, body thrumming with an animalistic relief to know that, for no matter how short a time, he didn't belong to Konoha. He was Iruka's, for Iruka to do whatever he wanted.

And it is was slightly ironic, because even though it was Kakashi in chains, Iruka felt like he was the one being forced as he brought dry fingers up to Kakashi's entrance.

Kakashi didn't want to be prepared. Kakashi didn't want lube. He wanted it to hurt.

Because if he hurt, if he bled, then he was all the more human, and that was what he needed from Iruka tonight. To feel human.

He wanted the control to be taken from him and put in Iruka's hands, because for someone like Kakashi, to feel utterly helpless and exposed and still _safe _was a liberating thing. He wanted all the control and power he had to possess in the field to be stripped forcibly away, because with it went responsibility, and he didn't have to do or even think. He let his body react the way it did, and it was simple and easy and _good_.

Even though Iruka has never wanted to control him. He wants to love Kakashi, not use him.

Kakashi whimpers a little as the first finger twists inside of him. His fingers clench desperately around thin air and Iruka hears what's probably a moan muffled by the pillow gripped between his teeth- a moan that was all pain and no pleasure. It hurts Iruka to add the second finger, maybe even more than it hurts Kakashi, and he bites his lip as the jounin pulls at the cuffs and buries his head against the bed.

"Iru-_ka_," he gasps, voice strained and shaking, the name drawn involuntarily out as the teacher begins bringing his lover along faster, because Kakashi doesn't want slow or gentle. He wants fast and rough. He wants it to hurt.

A third finger joins the second, and Kakashi's panting now, straining against the restraints and gasping and struggling, beautiful body thriving in the throes of the pain and release. Sweat glistens on the pale back in the low light, and his spine twists as he contorts on the bed, muscular thighs trembling before Iruka wiggles his fingers a bit. Then his whole body jerks and Kakashi cries out, fighting without conscious thought. The pillow still clenched firmly in his mouth does little to muffle the next whimper.

Because he wants the freedom to moan, whimper,_ scream_ if he has to, but doesn't want anyone to hear his weakness but Iruka.

The nails of Iruka's free hand scraped against Kakashi's back, the feel of the sweaty skin somehow anchoring him in place, stopping him from backing away. Kakashi needs him and he can not give up now, not with the deed only half finished.

Kakashi's crying now, from the pain or emotion or relief- probably all three. Glistening tracks of water trail from his one grey eye, the Sharingan open but strangely dry, from what Iruka can see as the silver head turns back and forth.

_Forgive me, _he wants to beg. _Don't make me do this, _he wants to plea. _I love you, _he wants to cry.

And yet, he says not a word as he lifts his limp cock- because he's not aroused by this, not one bit- and sheathes himself in Kakashi.

The jounin cries out, a muffled scream muted in the pillow. It sounds agonized, tortured, and it's all Iruka can do to not pull out immediately and beg for forgiveness. His hands fist worthlessly around thin air at a frantic rate, arms yanking and fighting to be free. His chest heaves and his legs twitch, tears streaming down one cheek that Iruka wants to kiss and sooth away.

He feels something warm and wet, and sees the look on Kakashi's face transform into something both pained but free, _liberated_, like by making him bleed Iruka had finally managed to reach into the dark abyss he was lost in and yank him right out again.

Because he wants to bleed, because if he bleeds, he has to be human. He wants to hurt, because if he hurts, he _has_ to be human.

Kakashi needs Iruka to melt the ice that is inside him, to punish him for who he has killed but also nurture him back to life. He needs to strip him of control so he can close his eyes and just _be_, not worry about responsibility or authority or think of anything beyond this moment.

He needs Iruka to make him feel alive again.

Iruka thrusts once more, and Kakashi screams his name in what he _knows_ is both agony and joy, and Iruka keeps going, knowing what Kakashi needs from him, that he will be unable to rest until he gets it.

He thrusts until Kakashi sobs, heaving and fighting and lost in passion and pain, and he cries out one more time before his body gives up. Iruka watches as his eyes close in unconsciousness, pale form shuddering and shivering but now limp and gone- and this, too, is what Kakashi wants.

It is the _last_ of what he wants, too, because now that he has fallen into what will be a dreamless rest, he doesn't need Iruka to be strong and give what his lover is so desperate for.

Now, Iruka breaks.

He kisses him finally, kisses him gently and doesn't bite. He goes back over everything single bloody imprint of teeth, every single sharp scratch, and kisses it softly, soothingly. His kiss asks for forgiveness, and then his mouth travels up to Kakashi's arms. He fumbles to release the slack arms from their chains, revealing wrists worn raw and red from struggling- and those marks, he kisses too.

Iruka leaves wet tear drops on most of these spots, tears dripping silently but steadily- tears that Kakashi will never see. When he finally kisses Kakashi's mouth, there is blood and fabric, from when the man had bit and torn into the pillow and even his own tongue, and his tears mingle with the one's left glistening on Kakashi's face.

_I'm sorry, _his tongue mumbles into Kakashi's mouth. _Please forgive me. '_

He doesn't want to stop kissing him, but he knows he has to, so he does. Iruka's shaking by the time he stands, Kakashi in his arms, and he hangs his head as he carries the jounin to the bathroom. He'll clean Kakashi up, and then take him back to bed, and this night will finally end.

It's a solid premise, but one that doesn't hold up well in execution, because Iruka can't stop crying now, he's shaking and crying and apologizing over and over again. A nasty little voice in his head says _at least it's not the other way around and he doesn't take you like this, _and that breaks the last of his resolve and he hunches over the toilet, heaving up bile and gasping and crying even harder.

He'd rather it _was_ the other way around. He doesn't want bondage either way, but he'd rather Kakashi restrain him than him render his lover helpless. He doesn't really care who tops and who doesn't, and in their normal sex life, they switch it around and have their fun, but if it has to be like this, Iruka would rather it be Kakashi who takes him. He doesn't want Kakashi to hurt him, but he'd rather that than _this_- than him hurting Kakashi.

Because he'd rather die than hurt Kakashi, but that's all Kakashi asks of him on nights like tonight.

Kakashi's sleep still when Iruka finishes his ministrations, breathes easy and calm like what had happened here had eased some strangling weight off his chest. And Iruka hasn't stopped apologizing, but the tears have finally let up. He still feels awful enough to fall back and be sick again as he carries the man back to their bed after changing the sheets, the sheets stained with the blood that he doesn't_can't__**won't**_ see.

Kakashi's the one who came to him hurting tonight, but it's Iruka who climbs under his limp arm and wraps it around himself, asking for the comfort he isn't so sure he deserves. He knows it will all be gone by tomorrow morning, that Kakashi will be all smiles and laughter as he orders him about from bed, too sore to stand- but tonight, it hurts. Tonight, it is real.

He does it all because he loves Kakashi. And he knows Kakashi loves him back, and if given the choice between a life with Kakashi and these nights and a life without Kakashi and without these nights, he'll pick the former every time.

He just wishes the package that was Kakashi didn't come along with this.


End file.
